Love Is the Death of Duty
by FiveFootTwo
Summary: A revision on the series finale based on a dream I had. Daenerys must choose between love and duty, the love of her life and the Iron Throne.


She pauses for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she gazes across the city to the place she knows Cersei still stands, waiting. Her heart begins to pound as she grips Drogon tightly as he soars into the air once more. "Dracarys!" she repeats to him over and over again, the city bursting into flames below them. She does not look down, her eyes solely focusing on the looming castle in the distance. She needs revenge. Cersei has taken everything from her. Her best friend, her dragons, her crown, her birthright, and finally the man she loves.

_Jon._

In this moment, she allows herself to look down, just once. Through the smoke she can make out the outlines of the citizens of King's Landing as they run away from her in fear. She holds onto Drogon tightly, preparing to take off again and continue her mission when something catches her eye. Drogon's head turns sharply to the right, and she looks in the direction he has turned. There, lying in the street, is her beloved.

_Jon._

"Dany!" he yells up at her weakly. Drogon lands heavily on a nearby building, and she dismounts him as the dragon's roars shake the city. She climbs downward until she is beside Jon.

"You're hurt," she states, examining him for injuries.

His brown eyes look up at her pleadingly, "Please," he says, "Don't do this."

Daenerys scans her surroundings, and sees crumbling buildings, the remains of people who were burnt to ashes, and hears the sounds of wailing coming from the streets. She looks back at Jon. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she pleads with him. "Please don't leave me."

"I will never love another the way that I love you," he replies, his eyes closing as they roll back into his head.

"No!" Daenerys screams, her yells echoing off the rubble that surrounds them. Drogon roars loudly again, sensing his mother's distress. "Please, no!" she shouts, shaking his body. "Help! Someone help us!"

A figure emerges from a shadowy alleyway, and she has never been so happy to see Ser Davos approaching them. "What happened?" he yells at her. "You were supposed to stop! They sounded the bells!"

She doesn't reply, only begins to sob as she throws herself over his body. "We need to get him out of here," Davos tells her, nervously observing Drogon. He places his hand tentatively on Daenerys's shoulder, snapping her out of her reverie. "Now!" Davos shouts at her.

She looks up at her dragon, and then back to Jon. "We'll have to get him onto Drogon," she tells Davos. Drogon, sensing what his mother needs, roars loudly again before lowering his head to where Jon lies. Gently, he opens one of his clawed feet and lifts Jon into the air. "Come with me," she motions to Davos, extending her hand to him.

Davos sighs heavily before giving the city one last cursory glance and taking Daenerys's hand. He mounts Drogon, gripping the beast behind her. She gives the dragon a whispered command, and they surge upward through the smoke. As she steers Drogon back to Dragonstone, she gives the city one final look. She can see what remains of her attack and the horrors below before the city disappears from view under the clouds.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"He hasn't opened his eyes in days," she tells Davos as he approaches from behind.

Davos gazes upon her apprehensively. "I've just gotten word from King's Landing, Your Grace, " he replies. "Your forces reached the Red Keep and found Cersei's body. The Kingslayer is now also the Queenslayer."

"Jaime Lannister?" she questions, and Davos nods.

"The Iron Throne is yours now, Your Grace," he affirms.

Daenerys knows she should feel happy, finally having achieved her lifelong dream, but she cannot take her eyes off the man who rests only an arm's reach away. "Will he live?" she asks Davos.

"It's hard to know for sure," he replies. "He's survived much worse before."

"I never meant to hurt him. I never meant to hurt anyone," she whispers as she moves into the room to sit beside Jon on the bed.

Davos doesn't say anything for a moment, looking intently at her. "Jon's a bastard," he states matter-of-factly, "And knowing of his true bloodline won't change that. You can't undo a lifetime of identity, purpose, and duty with a single statement of fact."

Daenerys turns to him, contemplating his words.

"He loves you, you know that," he tells her and she nods, taking Jon's hand in hers. "But that doesn't mean he believes himself to be worthy of you. He couldn't imagine a future with you. Not because you're his aunt by blood, but because Kings and Queens and King's Landing may be in his blood, but it isn't in his heart."

"He didn't want me," she replies. "He could barely look me in the eye ever since he found out. I wish he'd never told me," she answers.

"And you asked him to never tell a soul!" Davos nearly shouts at her, his temper flaring, "Which if you respected him at all you would never have done!" Daenerys opens her mouth to counter, but Davos holds up his hand to silence her. "Jon is loyal, honest, decent, and he loves with his whole heart. He would never have kept something this earth shattering from his family. It was unfair of you to ask him to do that. That was your betrayal, not his."

Daenerys grows silent, her hand sweeping a stray hair from Jon's face. "I never had any family," she replies. "It's always been just me. For so long now I was the only person I could rely on. I lost my first love because of his pride, and my only son along with him. And with them a part of me turned to stone. I've wanted nothing else but to sit on the Iron Throne until I met Jon Snow."

"People love him because he is honorable and decent. He inspires people to be better versions of themselves," Davos interjects.

"He does, I know it," she answers sadly, "I saw it for myself in Winterfell. I will never have the love of the people of Westeros like he does. I'll never be the kind of leader they want. And now everyone will know that someone more worthy is the rightful heir."

"He doesn't want it," Davos replies, "He wants a home. He wants peace. He wants love. And no matter what the choice, he will choose what is honorable. What will you choose? The throne, or love? Because I don't think you can have both." He turns and leaves her alone with Jon in the chamber.

Daenerys studies Jon's features carefully as her fingertips lightly graze his hairline, cheek, and jaw. "I love you," she whispers to him. "Please don't leave me. I'm so sorry. I would give anything to just be back on that ship with you, alone in my chambers. It is the happiest I've ever been in my life. I'd give it up, the throne, everything, if I could just have you." She lays her head on his chest and weeps.

She focuses on the sound of his heartbeat and breathing as she cries. She cries for all the mistakes she's made. For Viserion, For Rhaegal. For Missandei. For Jorah. For the family she never had. For Drogo. For Rhaego, her unborn son. He body shakes with sobs until she feels she has nothing left within her to release. She feels the strong pull of sleep tugging at her eyelids when a sound wakes her from her slumber.

"We should have just stayed at the waterfall for a thousand years," she hears a voice rasp. She opens her eyes to find Jon Snow gazing upon her.

"I'm so sorry!" she exclaims, her eyes shedding fresh tears as she grips his hands in hers.

"Did you mean it?" he asks, his tone serious.

"Did I mean what?" she questions.

"That you would give everything up for me, for us?" he wonders.

She pauses, "For as long as I can remember I've wanted the Iron Throne. I believed it to be my destiny, my birthright. And then I learned that it wasn't, it was yours instead. And it made me question everything. Everything changed except my love for you. Have you ever felt about anyone or anything the way you feel about me?"

"No," he responds immediately. "I've never met anyone like you before. Sometimes I wonder if you're even real."

"But you have loved before," she states.

"Yes, a wildling girl. She died in my arms," he responds.

"I thought I knew what love was," she replies, standing to begin pacing the room, tears still wet on her cheeks. "I thought I loved my husband, and perhaps I did, in my own way. And I felt nothing when I left Daario in Meereen, even though I thought I loved him too. I feel drawn to you in a way I can't explain."

"You risked your life to save me, twice," Jon reminds her gently. "And sacrificed your dragon."

"You make me vulnerable," she replies, looking out the window, "In a way that frightens me. I can't lose you. If I were to lose you I'd…"

"Go mad?" he interrupts, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "What were you doing? They surrendered. We won." 

"I don't know!" she turns around abruptly, eyes flashing in anger.

"You do know!" he counters, shifting his body so that he is sitting more upright, wincing with the pain of his movement.

"They took everything from me!" she shouts. "My dragons, my life, my home, my best friends, and you!"

"Cersei didn't take me away from you. I did," he rasps mournfully.

"Why? Because I am you aunt? Because we are family?" she demands.

"No, because I am nothing. Because I've always been nothing. I don't want any of this! I would never threaten your claim to the throne. I would never stand in your way," his eyes shine with emotion.

"You aren't nothing to me!" she insists, but he stops her.

"It doesn't matter!" he exclaims, his voice rising, "Targaryen or Stark, Iron Throne or not, I couldn't see a future with you!"

She stops in her tracks at his revelation, studying his face carefully. "Could you?" he adds.

She turns away from him once more. "I thought I could," she replies. "I dreamt of it a few times. Me ruling with you by my side. Our children…" she trails off.

"That has never mattered to me," he interjects.

"I know," she answers, "But it matters to me. You want a future with me, and I can't give it to you."

"I just want you," he replies simply. "Not the Iron Throne, not castles or riches or armies. Just you."

Tears begin streaming from her eyes in earnest. "You're right, we should have stayed at the waterfall forever."

"Your grace?" Davos asks as he enters the chambers, "I've just got word that your presence is requested at King's Landing immediately. The city is in need of its Queen."

She turns to leave, pausing in the doorway to look back at Jon.

"Let me ask you this, my Queen," he implores, "Are you happy now that you have everything you ever wanted?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

She walks through the hallways of the silent castle before entering the Throne Room. She is the room's only occupant as she makes her way to the Iron Throne, her hand outstretched to touch the cool metal. She turns, lowering herself slowly into the forged steel throne, surveying the large room before her. It is a moment she dreamt about countless times, imagined in the finest details, and she is expecting to feel a surge of emotion. Relief, joy, power, destiny, anything. Jon's question echoes in her head as it has for weeks.

The sound of footsteps entering the room interrupts her thoughts. "Is it everything you hoped it would be, Your Grace?" Tyrion, her hand, asks, his head tilting to indicate the Iron Throne.

"No," she sighs, standing to walk over to him.

"Is something troubling you? Perhaps someone, rather. Someone dark, brooding, handsome, and not so tall?"

"You're one to talk of height," she jests, making a small attempt at lightening the mood.

"He's back at Castle Black, last I heard," Tyrion explains. "Left for there as soon as he was well enough. Ser Davos went with him."

"His wounds are healed?" she asks.

"The physical ones at least, yes," Tyrion answers. "And we've just receive a raven from Sansa Stark. She is grateful for Jon's safety and your assistance. She wants to know if you've put in any more thought to the North becoming and independent kingdom."

"She asked me about that in Winterfell," Daenerys recalls, "And I responded poorly, of course. I've felt powerless and out of control all my life. I've been abused, raped, and beaten. I've been hunted and betrayed. All I wanted was to take that power back from those who robbed me of it. It was all I could see, a singular focus."

"Forgive me, Your Grace," Tyrion interjects, "But perhaps your discontent lies in the fact that you weren't considering love."

"How do you mean?" she wonders.

"Many men have loved you, you cannot deny this. Myself included," he adds, reddening slightly, "But none better than the bastard King of the North, even if I hate to admit it."

"He's not a bastard, he never has been," Daenerys corrects him.

"I know this, as do you," Tyrion replies, "But Jon Snow was never going to be changed by a title or a birthright, because honor, not nobility, runs through his veins. And love," Tyrion adds, "Love most of all."

"What of love?" Daenerys snaps, her expression hardening.

"I have been in your presence for many moon cycles now, Your Grace, and I have never seen you as happy as you were with Jon Snow," Tyrion muses. "No one could ignore the way you looked at each other. In fact, no one could ignore the sounds of your lovemaking on that ship. I even once considered jumping overboard just to avoid it myself."

She turns away from him, her eyes filling with unshed tears.

_Jon._

She can picture it with startling clarity, even though it feels like it happened a lifetime ago, if not in a dream.

_She could feel her heart pounding as she stepped aside and allowed him to enter her chambers. He stood before her, staring into her eyes intently as he had a way of doing. It made her feel desired in a way that she had never experienced before. He took a step closer to her, his hand moving to caress her elbow, the simple touch eliciting a heat and electricity there despite her layers of clothing. She gave him the tiniest, almost imperceptible nod of consent before his lips met hers. Tentatively at first, and then with growing passion as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against his body. She moaned into his mouth, the sound of it halting his movements if only for just a second. He pulled back to study her, seeing lust and love reflected in her eyes. They undressed each other slowly, wanting to savor the moment. Her stomach fluttered with nervous energy. Every touch of his hands and lips burned her, marked her as his. She surrendered herself to him, pushing him back until he was lying on her bed. She hovered over him, settling herself between his legs as they kissed passionately. She lost sense of who she was, or where she was, and could only feel him and her pounding heart. He rolled them over until he was over her and pulled back for a few seconds, again studying her expression. His face gave away wonder, fear, love, awe, desire, and respect. And when he entered her, she felt whole for the first time in her life, like the missing pieces of herself finally fell into place. _

"Let me ask you this," Tyrion's voice shatters through her thoughts. "When was the last time you were truly happy?"

"Jon asked me the same thing the last time I saw him. I didn't answer him then. I didn't think I had an answer for that," she responds.

"And do you now?" Tyrion wonders.

"I always thought it would be the first time I sat on the Iron Throne. Or finally watching Cersei Lannister die," she begins.

"Funny, me too," Tyrion smirks.

"But now I realize it was at that waterfall with Jon. The one we could have stayed a thousand years at, and I would have, holed up in that cave with him. I wanted it, if it weren't for duty."

"And what is your duty?" Tyrion questions.

"I don't know anymore," she responds honestly.

"You have made the impossible possible. You walked through fire and live to tell the tale. You brought dragons into the world again after centuries. You know, my Queen, even if you are afraid of the answer," Tyrion insists. "Some may walk for lifetimes and never know true love or happiness, and you walk away from it because of a duty and a purpose that you created for yourself. He is the wolf to your dragon, the ice to your fire. He is your balance, your purpose."

"Jon," she whispers.

"Jon," he nods, affirming. "The Seven Kingdoms will survive, no matter your choice, as it has for centuries."

And with that, he turns and leaves her alone once more.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

He often finds himself wandering the frozen landscape with no destination in mind, and no real knowledge of how he ended up so far from the castle. So lost in his thoughts, he finds himself at the base of the waterfall where he had taken Daenerys on that glorious, fateful day.

_Dany._

He can't bear to think of her. On the rare instances that he allows himself to remember, he is left with a throbbing ache in his chest that makes it painful for him to breathe. He tries to tell himself that it is due to his previous injuries, but he knows better than to actually believe it. The sky begins to darken slightly with the impending evening, and he knows he needs to find shelter. Remembering the location of the cave, he trudges through the snow in search of it.

He enters through the small opening of the cave and sees a vision before him.

_Dany._

"Is this real, are you real?" he wonders aloud.

"Yes," she replies.

"What are you doing here? How did you get here?" his words tumble out of him rapidly in his disbelief.

"I asked Drogon to find you, and he brought me here, to this spot. I figured I would wait for you in here, where we last made love," she responds wistfully, her voice thick with emotion.

"Dany," he rasps in the way that she loves, and she takes a tentative step toward him.

"I know all of your reasons why we shouldn't be together. I know I've made mistakes. Terrible, horrible mistakes. But I've never been happier than when I was with you. You brought out the best in me, in my heart. I love you, Jon Snow. You are my destiny," she reaches up to stroke his cheek lightly with her palm, relieved that he doesn't immediately pull away.

"Dany," he says again, and she can see the war waging in his head.

"Please," she whispers, her mouth a breath away from his. Jon sighs heavily, his eyes not breaking contact with hers. She lowers herself to the ground onto her knees and reaches out to hold his hands. "Be with me," she pleads. "Choose love."

"I don't want to be King," he starts to say, but she silences him by pulling him down to her level so that they are both kneeling, face to face.

"I know," she answers. "I just want you to be mine."

And with that, her lips meet his. The kiss starts off slowly, tentatively, as if neither of them can believe that the other is real. His tongue seeks entrance to her mouth, parting her lips gently as he tastes her again. She moans into the kiss, the sound only urging him on as his strong arms pull her flush against him. She moves to undress him, and smiles into their kiss when he allows it.

"I've missed you so much. I can't live without you," she whispers into his ear as he lowers his lips to her neck.

"I love you," he tells her as he removes her fur coat, dropping it to the floor of the cave. She doesn't even mind the cold as he strips her of all her clothing, his eyes raking hungrily over her body. She tugs at his clothing until they are both exposed, breathing heavily, their hearts pounding. He moves to kiss her again, pulling her down with him onto her spread out fur coat which lined the floor of the cave. He rolls them over until he is on top of them, and gazes into her eyes, bringing her back to the moment on the ship when they first made love.

"You are my home," she whispers to him, her eyes shining with tears. "You are my everything."

"Dany," he says, the weight of her name falling from his lips telling her everything she needs to know. He pushes himself into her slowly and they both moan at the contact. She opens her eyes as a teardrop falls on her cheek. She cradles his face in her hands as they move together as one.

"Are you alright? Am I hurting you?" he asks with concern when he sees her tears.

"No, I am exactly where I want to be. With you, forever," she responds, pulling his lips back to hers once more.


End file.
